Artemis

“Thought what?”

“I’ve known you since you were a little delinquent. You don’t want to admit it, but you’re just like your father. You have his business ethics.”

“So?” I pouted and looked away.

“You’ll lie all day if we’re just talking. But if I pay for the truth, that makes it a business deal. And a Bashara never reneges on a deal.”

I ran out of smartassed things to say. It’s rare, but it happens once in a while.

He pointed to Hibby. “That HIB would be a great way to open an airlock without authorization.”

“I suppose.”

“You’d have to get it outside first.”

“I suppose.”

“You could probably sneak it out with a tourist EVA.”

“You getting at something, Rudy?”

He tapped on his Gizmo. “There are no surveillance cameras on airlocks. We’re not a police state. But there is a security camera in the Visitors Center gift shop.”

He turned the screen to face me. There I was, walking through the gift shop in my disguise. He paused the playback. “According to the transaction she made to get on the train, her name is Nuha Nejem. Strange thing is, her Gizmo is offline now. She’s about your height, build, and skin color, wouldn’t you say?”

I leaned in to look at the screen. “You know there’s more than one short Arab woman on the moon, right? Besides, she’s wearing a niqab. Have you ever seen me in traditional clothes? I’m not what you’d call a devout Muslim.”

“Neither is she.” He swiped the screen a few times. “The train has a security camera too.”

Now his Gizmo showed video from the train. The nice French guy stood up and offered me his seat. I bowed to him and sat down.

“Chivalry isn’t dead,” I said. “Good to know.”

“Muslims don’t bow to people,” Rudy said. “Even Muhammad didn’t let anyone bow to him. They bow to Allah and no one else. Ever.”

Shit. I really should have known that. Maybe I should have paid attention when I was young—before Dad gave up on bringing me into the faith.

“Huh,” I said. “Don’t know what to tell ya.”

Rudy leaned against the wall. “I’ve got you this time, Jazz. This isn’t some minor smuggling. It’s a hundred million slugs’ worth of property damage. You’re going down.”

I shook a little. Not from fear. From rage. Didn’t that asshole have better things to do than micromanage my life?! Leave me the fuck alone!

I don’t think I hid it very well.

“What’s the matter? No comeback?” he said. “You didn’t do this for fun. This has ‘work-for-hire’ written all over it. Tell me who hired you, and I’ll put in a good word with the administrator. It’ll keep you from getting deported.”

I kept my mouth a thin line.

“Come on, Jazz. Just tell me it was Trond Landvik and we can all move on with life.”

I tried not to react, but I failed. How the hell did he know that?

He read my expression. “He’s been selling Earthside holdings to amass a huge slug balance. He must be planning to buy something big in Artemis. Sanchez Aluminum, I’m guessing.”

He must have wanted Trond pretty bad. He was willing to pass up an opportunity to take me down once and for all. But still…rolling on Trond? Not my style. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He put the Gizmo back in his pocket. “Why do you have a HIB?”